Eleven Doctors And A Serial Killer
by YouLookLikeFOOD
Summary: Sylar steals Claire's ipod. Eleven Doctors show up. The tenth Doctor eats too much sugar. Ace convinces Sylar to blow up trash cans. And that's only in the first chapter! Rated T for some violence and launguage.
1. Too Much Sugar

Sylar's eyes flickered open as an alarm started blaring. He swore and threw the clock against the wall, effectively shattering it. Then he realized that he'd have to fix that, or it would drive him crazy.

Not the best start to a day.

He hurriedly got dressed and left, though he didn't know why he felt like he had to rush. It wasn't like he really needed to go anywhere.

"Hello, Gabriel!" A voice called to him.

Sylar rolled his eyes and continued walking.

"Gabriel?"

He sighed. "My name is Sylar." He growled under his breath.

But the person didn't seem to hear him. She bounded up in front of him.

"Hi, Gabriel!" She grinned.

Sylar took a step back. "Claire?"

The cheerleader grinned. "How's life?"

He raised an eyebrow. Claire Bennett looked like she'd been jogging, wearing a hot pink running suit and listening to an ipod, one earphone in her ear, the other hanging out so she could talk to Sylar.

Her smile faded as he didn't answer. "Well?"

He shrugged. "Fine."

"Any new abilities?"

Now Sylar was confused. Claire hated the thought of him taking abilities. She thought he was nothing but a murderer!

But he shrugged and turned invisible.

"That's so cool!" The cheerleader cried. "Omigosh, how do you do that?"

But Sylar didn't answer her. Instead, sticking to his true nature, he plucked her ipod out of her hands. It seemed to float away from her in mid-air for a moment, then disappeared as well as he turned away from her and started walking in the other direction.

But Claire just laughed. "That's awesome!"

Sylar rolled his eyes and scrolled through her playlist, gagging at her taste in music selection.

"Lady Gaga?" He demanded. He whirled around and threw the ipod at the cheerleader's head. "Your music is crap!"

The ipod hit Claire's head with a satisfying _thunk,_ and she stumbled backwards.

Now a little irritated, Sylar continued down the street. He made himself visible after a moment.

"Hi Gabriel!"

Sylar clenched his teeth, now ready to rip open the head of anyone _else _who decided to call him Gabriel.

He raised an eyebrow as saw Matt Parkman. He was grinning like a lunatic, seeming genuinely happy that Sylar was there.

"Hi!"

"Hello."

"What's new?"

"You're ability, if you don't wipe that stupid grin off your face."

Matt looked at him for a moment, and Sylar thought that he'd managed to scare him.

But then he just laughed. He clutched his sides. He laughed until his face was red. He laughed until his breathing was coming out in gasps. Finally, Sylar was about ready to slit his throat if he didn't stop laughing. Just like that, Matt stopped, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh, too funny. That was hilarious." He looked at his watch. "Aww… I have to go." He frowned, looking like a little kid who'd been told he couldn't smash his toys in maniac monster fashion. He turned around and waved goodbye. "Bye, Gabriel!"

Sylar just started after him, dumbfounded. What was with everyone today? Had he just stopped being a terrifying serial killer?

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and suddenly realized that he'd just passed an unbeatable opportunity to become telepathic. He swore and threw a little hissy fit for a minute, causing people to give him a healthy amount of space as they walked by.

When he'd finally calmed down, he let out a deep, long, exasperated, depressing, horrible sigh. Finally, he was running out of breath, so he stopped. But the sound continued, growing louder and louder, like a rasping breath.

Curious, Sylar followed the noise until he saw a blue box beginning to materialize on some random street. Slowly, steadily, it shimmered into existence.

Sylar was a little unnerved with the box, though no one else seemed to notice it. He decided to destroy it, because it just felt… wrong.

He raised one hand, sending telekinetic energy to rip the wood apart.

But the box just stayed still.

He tried again, concentrating harder.

No result.

Radioactive energy lit his hands, and shot towards the box. When the glow died, the box was still there.

"Will you cut that out?" A voice suddenly called. "You're making my shields go nuts!"

Sylar took a step back, surprised to realize that the voice had come from _inside _the box.

"How in the universe does a shield do The Cha Cha Slide?" the voice demanded. "You made my shield do the Cha Cha Slide!"

"Doctor, shields can't dance." A female's exasperated voice said.

"Well, what does that look like to you?" the man's voice asked.

There was a moment's pause, and then the woman's voice called again. "You made his shields do the Cha Cha Slide! How is that even _possible?_"

At this point, Sylar was taking his sanity into consideration. This _had _to be a dream. There was no other explanation. Either that, or he was hallucinating.

_A dream_. He decided as a tall man with a long brown coat and wild brown hair stepped out of the box.

"You!" he cried. "Are you the one who made the shields dance?"

Sylar glared at him. "What's it to you?"

"Do you have any idea how _long _it's going to take me to fix that? Have some respect! This ship is a thousand years old!"

"Doctor, he's only human. Let it go." A woman stepped out of the box after him.

Sylar rolled his eyes. If there was one thing he wasn't, it was _only _human.

"True." The man said with a nod.

"_Not _true." Sylar growled. "Who _are _you?"

The man extended a hand. "I am The Doctor!" he beamed.

Sylar almost felt like he had to applaud, and almost did, but stopped himself at the last second. "Sylar." He introduced himself, shaking the Doctor's hand.

The Doctor shook his hand so violently that Sylar had to stop his bones from rattling. "Oh, good. That's wonderful! Hooray!"

Sylar yanked his hand from the man's grip.

The Doctor's eyes were wide. "I'm here because of _you. _Because _you _need to save the world!" he said _save the world _very dramatically, as though he was on a stage. His already-maniac smile stretched from ear to ear. Sylar briefly wondered if it was making his cheeks hurt.

He snorted. "Big deal. I've saved the world before." So it was a lie. He was a serial killer. Who cared if he lied?

The Doctor's grin never faded. "Oh, great! Then this should be easy!" he ran off. "Come on!"

The woman rolled her eyes and extended a hand towards Sylar. "Hi. I'm Donna Noble."

"Sylar."

"So I heard."

He looked at her for a long time. "Should I be worried about him?" He asked, gesturing in the general direction of where The Doctor had run.

Donna rolled her eyes. "No. He's like that all the time.

Sylar's eyes popped. "Really?"

She nodded.

"Arrgh!" A cry sounded out from where The Doctor had gone.

Donna sighed and followed the sound, Sylar right behind her.

"I. Hate. Meteors!" The Doctor groaned. Sylar wondered how he was able to do that under the huge chunk of rock that was smashing him.

He rolled his eyes and flicked his fingers, sending the meteor rolling off The Doctor. "You are insane."

The Doctor leapt to his feet, somehow unscathed by the random meteor that had decided his head was a wonderful target. "Possibly."

He turned around, not bothering to look twice that the chunk of rock, that really wasn't a rock, now that Sylar really looked at it.

"That's a spaceship." Donna's tone was flat. "Doctor! It's a spaceship."

But the Doctor's eyes were somewhere else. "Yeah, cool. Deal with it, will you?"

Donna sighed, and the Doctor ran into a random store.

Sylar looked at the ship. It was a classic flying saucer.

"SUGAR!" Someone randomly screamed in his ear.

He whirled around to see the Doctor, who had come back from the store in ten seconds flat. He was holding the wrappers of about fifteen chocolate bars, and an empty bag that once held nothing but pure sugar. The Doctor's lips were covered in sticky brown chocolate, and his grin was even more maniac than before.

"Oh, boy." Donna said.

The Doctor dropped the wrappers and sugar bag and walked up to some random person. "HiI'mtheDoctoryeahI'mgoingtosavethe worldyouknowthat?"

The man looked at The Doctor like he was insane, which he probably was. "Get away from me, freak!" He pushed the Doctor back.

But The Doctor was persistent. "Whydidyoucallmeafreakhuh? You'renotanicepersonyouknowthat?"

The man screamed. "Get this weirdo away from me!"

Sylar was about to step in between the two, and apologize for the Doctor's idiocy, when the man shot lasers from his fingers, sending The Doctor flying backwards, though he seemed completely unfazed.

Sylar raised an eyebrow.

The man started running, but Sylar was faster. As the man turned into an alleyway, he found a serial killer in his face.

Sylar smiled. "Hello."

* * *

Sylar came back with blood on his hands, but lasers were shooting from his fingers. "I could get used to this." He whispered to himself.

The Doctor was still in his sugar daze.

"HiI'mtheDoctorwhoareyou? Ohlookafly!" The Doctor proceeded to chase the bug around in circles. "Comebackflycomeback!"

Donna was crying. "Why me? WHY ME?"

Sylar was just about to go and comfort her, when something strange and unexpected happened.

There was a deep, rasping noise, one that Sylar had only heard once in his whole life.

Slowly, a blue box materialized in front of him.

It was exactly the same box The Doctor had, and, as he watched, a man came out wearing a leather coat. A blonde woman was following him.

"Doctor, where are we going?" The woman asked.

"Ohthisisnotgoodnotgoodatall." The Doctor said behind Sylar.

The other man who had come from the blue box smiled at Sylar. "Hello! Umm… this might seem like a stupid question, but what year is this?"

" 2010." The Doctor replied for Sylar.

The other man raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I'myoustupid."

"I'm sorry?" The other man asked.

"Doctor, why isn't the TARDIS translating?" The blonde woman asked.

"TheTARDISisn'ttranslatingcuzI'mspeakingenglishRose! Seriouslywhat'swithyoupeople?"

Sylar was starting to get used to The Doctor's strange, too-fast speech. "He said that the TARDIS isn't translating because he's speaking English."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeahyeahyeah. Englishpeople!"

The man looked at Sylar with a finally-some-answers face. "Thank you. But who is he?"

"I'myouyouidiot!"

Sylar looked at the man. "He says he's you."

The man paled. "Oh, dear."

The blonde woman looked at the man. "What does he mean, he's you?"

"Ah… he means that he's a future regeneration of me. That's what I'm going to look like in the future." The man winced. "Hopefully the far future."

"Heyshutupbigear sImeanreallyyou 'reonetotalk."

The man looked at Sylar for translation.

"Hey shut up big ears. I mean, really, you're one to talk." Sylar hurriedly clarified.

"Hey!" The man shouted.

Donna suddenly went up to the man and slapped him in the face. "All right, if someone doesn't explain who this guy is and why he has a TARDIS, I'm REALLY gonna get angry!"

The man winced, rubbing his cheek. "All right, all right. I'm The Doctor."

The other Doctor, the one Sylar had originally met, nodded.

"What do you mean, you're The Doctor?" Donna demanded.

"This is going to be a long day." Sylar said with a sigh.

"Ihavetheability toregeneratewhenI'mabouttodiesorryIdidn'ttellyoubefore."

Sylar sighed again. "He says he has the ability…" He trailed off. "Wait, what ability was that again?"

"NononononotlikeyouSylarI'mtotallydifferentit'scuzI'mnothuman."

Sylar nodded and began again. "He says he has the ability to regenerate when he's dying but he has to change everything and he's sorry he didn't tell you before." Suddenly, he turned to The Doctor. "Hold on. What do you mean you're not human?"

"I'maTimeLordduh."

"I'm so confused." The blonde woman said.

"Hold on." Donna intervened. "If there are two of you, what are we supposed to call you? I mean, we can't call you both 'The Doctor.'"

"We'vehandledthisbeforedon'tworry. I'mtenandhe'snine."

Everyone turned to Sylar.

He sighed. "He said he's handled this before, don't worry. He's Ten and this man…" he pointed to the other Doctor. "Is Nine."

Nine nodded.

"Let'sjusthopenooneelseofusshowsup." Ten said.

"Let's just hope no one else shows up." Sylar translated with a sigh.

"Hello!" A new voice entered the conversation as a man with hair almost as wild as Ten's came over, a young red-headed woman with him. He paled as he saw Nine and Ten. "Well. This isn't good."

"Whotheheckareyou?" Ten asked. Sylar translated hurriedly.

The man sighed. "Well, if we're using the normal terms, I'm Eleven."

"Ohcrap."

Sylar decided that didn't need to be translated.

"Well, introductions, then." Eleven said with a sigh. "This is Amy Pond." He told everyone, pointing to the woman behind him.

"Hi." The blonde woman said. "I'm Rose Tyler."

"Donna Noble." Donna said.

"Sylar." Sylar intervened, waving with one electric laced hand.

A few people stared, but Nine, Ten, and Eleven just shook their heads.

"Thatoldsackofbo nesbetternotsho wupthat'sallI'msaying." Ten said.

Sylar clamped a hand on his mouth. "Shut up for once, will ya?"

Ten bit his hand.

"Ow!" Sylar jumped back. Lightning crackled around his fingertips. "Wanna regenerate early, Time Lord?" he snarled.

Eleven grabbed Sylar's hand. "Not a good idea. That's not how I change, and it's not smart to argue with time."

Sylar yanked his hand away, irritation flooding through him.

"Oh, dear."

"You three finally decided to join the party, eh?"

Sylar looked around, where a crowd of people were standing behind him.

One of them sighed. "Ok, which one is which?"

Ten sighed. "Ten."

"Eleven."

"Nine."

"They know?" An old man asked, gesturing to Rose, Donna, Amy and Sylar.

Nine nodded.

He sighed. "One."

"Two." A younger man with black hair said with a sigh.

"Three." Said another. He had white hair that was curled crazily around his head.

"Four!" Another man with dark, curly hair said.

"Five." He had light blonde hair, and, curiously, a piece of lettuce or cabbage on his coat.

"Six." His outfit was even crazier. It was a tangle of colors and patters, screaming one word and one word only. _Insane!_

"Seven." He had a hat, a coat with question marks on it, and an umbrella with a question mark for a handle.

"Eight." He had long, dark curly hair.

"I'm Teegan." The woman with Five said.

"Jo." The woman with three said.

"Sarah. Sarah Jane." Said the woman with Four.

"Ace." She was standing in front of Seven, a backpack strapped to her back.

"Rose."

"Donna."

"Amy."

Sylar looked at them all. "This is insanity."

"Yournameisthisisinsanity?" Ten asked, genuinely perplexed.

"No, idiot. It's… oh, never mind."

Donna slapped him. "Don't be rude. Tell them your name."

Sylar rolled his eyes, ignoring the stinging pain in his cheeks. "Does it matter?" he snorted and started to walk away. "I'm outta here. This is too nuts for me."

"What a delightful young man." One muttered bitterly.

Sylar whirled around. "Listen, you old idiot." He hissed, radioactive energy flaring around him. "I don't want to hear about Time Lords, or Eleven people who are the _same man_, or anything else, ever again! Understood? Unless you have an ability, _I'm not interested!_"

Ace's eyes were huge. "Oh. Man. How are you _doing _that?" Her face was lit up like a Christmas tree.

He glared at her, but she was looking at him in fascination instead of fear. "Seriously! I'm so jealous!" She continued. "Can you blow things up?" A sparkle entered her eyes.

He looked at her. "Yes…?" It was more of a question than an answer.

"That's so cool!" Ace exclaimed. "I love blowing things up!"

"Now, Ace…" Seven said warningly.

But Ace blew him off. "Not now, Professor." She was still staring all googley-eyed at Sylar. "Can you show me? Please please _please?_"

Sylar grinned, fake modesty in his tone. "I don't know if I should…"

"_Please?_" She begged.

He smiled and tossed a radioactive blast towards a trash can.

Ace yelled excitedly. "Woo-hoo! Encore! Encore!"

Sylar began randomly blowing stuff up. Suddenly, everyone else seemed to disappear.

Finally, there was nothing left to blow up, unless you counted people and a few irritating Time Lords. Ace was staring at Sylar in fascination.

"And you never run out?" She asked, her eyes gleaming.

He shook his head.

She grinned wildly. "I'm always running out. I have to keep this thing completely stocked all the time." She gestured to her backpack.

"If we could continue…" Nine said irritably.

"YesIthinkthat'sagoodideaIlikethatideaalotit'sreallyreallygood."

Nine turned to Sylar. "What did he say?"

"Umm… he said that was a horrible idea and he thinks Ace should come with me and we should probably blow up a few more things."

"Whattheheckarey outalkingabout?"

But Sylar placed his hand on Ten's shoulder, giving him a short, electrical burst, enough to knock him out for a moment. "Yeah, that's what he said. Oh, look. Maybe the sugar's worn off for a while."

"Ohlookafly!" Ten was suddenly on his feet. Apparently, there was so much sugar in his system that he couldn't black out for more than a second.

Ten began chasing a fly again, and Sylar briefly wondered if it was the same fly he'd been chasing before. But he didn't care.

"Come on, Ace." He said with a grin.

She smiled, her eyes bright. "Yes." She hissed triumphantly. "See ya later, Professor!"

Seven stared after her, dumbfounded.

TO BE CONTINUED…

**A/N: Ok, this was the result of complete boredom. My first parody, so be nice. Also, I don't have anything against Lady Gaga, but I just wouldn't think Sylar would particularly like that kind of music. So, NO OFFENCE INTENDED. Also, I don't own The Cha Cha Slide. **


	2. Socks

"Woo hoo! Yeah!"

Sylar grinned and tossed another radioactive blast into the air.

Ace's eyes were lit up, sparkling with the fire in the explosions. "This. Is. Amazing!"

He smiled. "You haven't seen anything yet."

He closed his eyes, concentrating. After a moment, his hands shot up. Lasers lit the air, radioactive energy dancing and weaving between them. Electricity sparkled all around it.

"Yeah!" Ace yelled. She pulled something out of her backpack and tossed into the sky. The resulting explosion knocked them both off their feet.

Ace started laughing. "That was _Awesome!_"

Sylar grinned and helped her to her feet.

"Whatareyoudoinghere?"

Sylar sighed and turned to face Ten.

"Oh, go eat a sock." Ace grumbled.

"Ooohsocks! Iwannasocktheysoundgood!"

Ace giggled. She was slowly getting the hang of Ten's fast speech. She elbowed Sylar. "Give him a sock."

Sylar grinned evilly. "You want a sock?"

"Maybewaitasecondwhat'sasock?"

Ace snickered.

"Just wait. We'll find a sock." He turned to Ace. "You have a sock?"

She shook her head.

"Crap, me neither."

"Iwannasock!"

"We'll get you a sock!" Sylar roared.

The Doctor meeped and backed away.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ace. Let's find a sock and shove it down his throat."

Ace grinned wildly. "Yeahyeahyeah." Suddenly, she swallowed. "Oh, cheese. I think I'm starting to pick up his annoying speech."

Sylar smiled. "Don't worry. Eventually, the sugar will get out of his system."

Her eyes widened. "Hopefully not before we find a sock."

They walked back to the others. The Doctor was running so quickly Sylar thought it was impossible unless he had an ability. But he wasn't human, so he couldn't have an ability.

That wouldn't stop him from ripping open Eleven's head, though. He didn't know how Eleven was supposed to regenerate, so that could very well be it. And, if he _couldn't _regenerate out of that, then that would explain why there was no Twelve.

He just hoped Ace wouldn't be there to see it.

When they'd finally caught up with the others, they were just standing around, waiting for them.

"Finally!" Rose said with an exasperated sigh.

"You three sure took your time." Donna agreed.

"Oh, shut up." Ace said, rolling her eyes.

"Doesanyonehaveasock?"

All eyes turned to Sylar.

"He wants to know if anyone has a sock."

A few puzzled expressions. "Why?" Five asked.

Sylar shrugged. "Like I know."

"Iwannaeatitduh."

Ace snickered. "He says his feet are cold."

Sylar nodded.

Nine rolled his eyes. "All right, just a second."

He went inside his TARDIS, and when he came out, he was carrying a pair of socks. "Here."

"Socks!" Ten raced forward and snatched them from Nine's hands. He grinned. Suddenly, his smile faded. "Oh. Thisisasock. GrossIwasgoingtoeatit."

Sylar thought for a moment. Ace grinned wickedly. "It'sanediblesock." She explained in his too-fast speech. Sylar laughed, and a few puzzled expressions told him that she'd succeeded in confusing the others.

Ten's eyes lit up. "Yay!"

And he shoved the sock in his mouth.

Ace burst into laughter. Sylar grinned next to her. It must have been annoying to dumb down to Ten's strange speech, but it was worth it.

"Mmmph!" Ten groaned, his face turning a considerably strange shade of green.

Ace was rolling on the ground. Donna was shooting murderous glances at her and Sylar, trying to yank the sock out of Ten's mouth.

Sylar was clutching his sides. He hadn't laughed this hard in a long time.

Finally, Donna had pulled the sock out of Ten's mouth. She glared at Sylar. "I hope you're happy."

"Ediblesocksdon'ttastegood." Ten said, his face twisted in disgust.

Ace laughed. "I'll bet."

"What is _wrong _with you people?" Six demanded.

"You're one to talk, mister Technicolor!" Nine rolled his eyes.

"I'll have you know, this jacket is very important." Six said, bristling.

Donna randomly slapped someone, and an all-out war began. Doctor fought against Doctor, Amy against Three, Rose against Teegan, and Jo against Sarah Jane. In all the commotion, Ace suddenly grabbed Sylar and planted a kiss on his lips.

The battle disappeared for the serial killer.

Ace grinned as she pulled away. "Hope the professor didn't notice."

"I did!" Seven cried as he lashed out at Four. "Believe me, I did!"

Ace blushed. "Crap."

Sylar grinned and kissed her again.

Suddenly, the fighting stopped as everyone noticed Ace and Sylar. Ace blushed again and pulled away, though Sylar was more than willing to murder everyone in sight just to have a little peace.

"Well that's… different." Nine said, raising an eyebrow.

Ace rolled her eyes. "Says a Time Lord with two hearts and eleven other people who are actually him. Deal with it, alien!"

Sylar nodded and kissed Ace again.

"Ew." A new voice interrupted.

Sylar about slit the newcomer's throat, but Ace just rolled her eyes and face him. "What now?"

Sylar sighed as he recognized him. "What do _you _want, Petrelli?"

Peter Petrelli just glared at him. "I want you to die, Sylar."

Sylar sighed again and removed his arms from around Ace. "Well, at least that's a simple request."

His hands flared with a dark, radioactive glow. Peter responded, his hands laced with blue electricity.

Ace placed her hand on Sylar's shoulder. "Don't hurt him too badly, k? I don't want the Professor to think I just kissed some sort of serial killer or something."

Peter snorted, having obviously heard her. "The irony of that statement…"

"No one asked you." Sylar retorted, interrupting him before he could finish. He turned to Ace. "You know, I _am_ a serial killer."

She grinned. "But The Professor doesn't know that."

He grinned back. "Al right, Petrelli. Let's get this over with."

The two clashed in an epic battle, fire and ice and water and wind and radioactivity and electricity blazed around the two of them as they fought it out.

"Stopit!" Ten suddenly shouted. "Thiswon'tgetusanywhere! Weneedyouboth! Tosavetheworld! Petrelli, Youshouldappreciatethat!"

The two of them froze. Sylar punched Peter once more for good measure, earning a dark glare from the empath.

"What do you mean?" Sylar asked.

"What is he _saying?_" Peter demanded, his face twisted in confusion.

"WeneedPeteron_our_sideSylar. Stopfightingbecausethatwon'tgetusanywhere!"

"Oh, shit." Sylar hissed. "You mean _he's _going to help save the world?" He demanded of Ten.

Ten nodded quickly.

Peter looked at Sylar, bewildered. "What do you mean, save the world?"

"Oh, dear." Seven said. "This just got very complicated."


	3. Meteors

"Let me get this straight." Peter said through clenched teeth. "_He's _going to save the world? _HIM?" _He gestured to Sylar as he spoke, his voice rising.

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Haven't we gone over this already?"

"_You _save the world?" Peter looked at him incredulously. "_You?"_

Sylar stood, his hands beginning to sparkle with blue electricity. "Are you saying I couldn't?" His tone was dark.

Peter just stared. "_**You?**_"

Sylar stepped towards him angrily, but a harsh cry sounded out, cutting them all off.

Ten was smashed against the ground, a large rock on top of him.

Donna blinked. "Are you kidding me? That's the second time that's happened! I mean, come on! First, he gets crushed in the first chapter by a meteor that isn't a meteor, now he gets crushed by a _real _meteor? WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH THIS?"

Sylar raised an eyebrow. "First chapter?" Now he was confused.

"Well, duh." Donna rolled her eyes. "You didn't think this was the TV series, did you? Nuh-uh. It's too… weird. Plus, these two series would never meet in real life."

"TV series?" The confusion grew in the serial killer.

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Doctor Who is ours, and Heroes is yours. Duh."

The confusion was at an almost painful level for Sylar. He had no idea that they were just in a story, or that they were in a TV series, or what the heck was happening here. The confusion muddled his brain, fogging his eyesight as it began to make him dizzy. What TV show? What 'chapter'? If this wasn't his real show, what was it? He hadn't even been aware that he was in a TV show…

_WHAM. _Ten got crushed by another meteor.

Donna glared at the sky. "Really? _**REALLY?**_**" **

"I think the author got a little bored of describing how confused Sylar was." Nine said wisely.

Peter was still staring at Sylar, dumbstruck. "_YOU?"_

Donna, being Donna, slapped him. "We're discussing meteors here."

Peter snapped out of it, his serious expression returning once more. "Right. Yeah. Right. Ok. What should we do?"

"GET IT OFF HIM!" Donna suggested, yelling suddenly. Peter flinched, and with two quick hand gestures, the two meteors rolled off of Ten.

Sylar grinned; at least she wasn't yelling at him.

Ten leapt to his feet, apparently unhurt. Until a giant ball of ice came streaming towards his head.

Donna glared murderously at it, and it melted under her gaze. Of course, this got them all wet and did nothing for Donna's temper, but at least Ten wasn't crushed again.

Ace rolled her eyes. "This is boring." She whispered to Sylar. "He's just getting smashed by meteors."

Ten glowered at her. "Theyhurtyouknow." He muttered bitterly.

Amy seemed bored as well, because she randomly kissed Eleven, who pushed her off with protests of, "You're getting married in the morning!"

"Deal with it, Space Man." Amy growled.

"That's _my _line!" Donna protested.

"Too bad!" Amy cried as Eleven shoved her away, exasperated.

Amy and Donna started yelling at each other, and Sylar smiled. "This could be interesting." He sat down, watching the events unfold as Ace sat next to him. He found himself wishing he had popcorn.

"I call him 'Space Man', understood? You don't!"

"Oh, well, _excuse me _for intruding!" Amy said the words in the most unapologetic way possible.

A car randomly blew up, and Donna and Amy jumped. They shut up after that, though they were not quite sure why they were doing so.

"We'll get no where by arguing." Six said, taking advantage of the calm that followed the explosion. "Let's just figure out why we're all here and what we need to do to fix it."

Ten nodded quickly. "YeahIlikethatplanletsdothat!"

Everyone turned to Sylar, who sighed heavily and translated, "He likes that idea."

A random person in the background screamed, "MY CAR!" But no one really noticed. They were all set on their plan.

"Right!" Nine said. "What now, then?"

"Weneedtosavetheworld." Ten rolled his eyes as though this was obvious.

Which started Peter again. He looked at Sylar. "YOU?"

Ace slapped him. "Stop that." She growled. Donna looked hurt that someone was slapping people and it wasn't her, but Sylar was smiling. He placed his arm on Ace's shoulders, and she stuck her tongue out at Peter.

Peter still looked dumbfounded. "What is with you people?" He demanded. "This man is a _serial…_"

Ace clamped her hand on his mouth, looking at Seven nervously. Thankfully, the Time Lord had been distracted by a large bee that had landed on his nose, so Ace let out a sigh of relief and released Peter, who was still talking despite her interruption.

"Can't be trusted! He…"

Peter was cut off as Seven screamed. The bee had decided that it did not like his nose. Seven clamped his hand to his face. Sylar wanted to point and laugh childishly, but Ace looked concerned, so he decided against it.

No one else seemed to care about Seven's hurt nose, though, because, at that point, the sun began to disappear, covered in darkness.

"Ohboy." Ten meeped, certain that another meteor was headed in his direction. He ducked to the floor, using his hands to shield his head.

"It's just an eclipse, Doctor." Donna rolled her eyes.

Ten meeped anyway.

"An eclipse?" Sylar's eyes widened. "Impossible! There wasn't one… for…" He swallowed. "No, no no no!" He looked down at his hands, waiting for the blue energy he was trying to create to dance on his hands.

But they stayed like they were. Normal.

Sylar swore. He stamped his foot and threw a major hissy fit, muttering the word 'powerless' over and over.

Ace looked at him worriedly. "Sylar? What's wrong?" She placed her hand on his.

Sylar swallowed, looking at Peter, waiting for him to betray the fact that he was now powerless to her. But he said nothing, clearly in a bad mood because of his powers vanishing as well.

Sylar knew then that he could never let Ace know. After all, that was how they had met; Sylar had been convinced to blow things up by her. He couldn't ruin it.

He gave Ace half-hearted explanations, enough to make her stop worrying, and walked over to Peter while everyone tried to explain to Ten that he didn't need to worry about meteors for a while.

"All right, Petrelli." Sylar growled. "Now we're both powerless."

"It would seem so." Peter agreed darkly.

"And you're not going to tell anyone."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "I'm not, am I?"

Sylar whirled to face him and clamped a hand on his throat. "No, you're not. You can die now, Peter. Understand that."

Peter choked, and Sylar released him. He nodded, his expression bitter, then realized that Ace was watching.

A grin spread across his face. "You really like this girl, eh?"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "That's not what this is about."

"Yes it is." Peter insisted. "That's exactly what this is about. You're powerless, but she likes your abilities, and since you think she's too shallow to stay with you because she actually _likes you_, you don't want her to know that your abilities are gone."

Sylar's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. "The eclipse has to end eventually. And then things will be back to normal."

He walked back to Ace.

"Come on, Doctor!" Donna was clearly getting exasperated. "There is no meteor headed in your direction."

_Plink. _A meteor the size of a pebble hit Ten in the back of the head. He jumped to his feet and screamed, then took off running.

"COME BACK HERE!" Donna snapped, running after him.

"That's going to take a while." Eleven observed. "If I know Ten- and I'm probably the only me here who does- then he's not going to come easy."

Sylar smiled.

"OW!" Seven screamed again as another bee landed on his nose.

"I thought the bees were supposed to be disappearing?" Eleven said to no one in particular. "Wasn't that the whole theme of season four?"

"How would I know?" Nine grumbled. "I don't get past season one. I mean, of all the things they can do, they can't just put me in for _one more season?_ Oh, bring the Daleks back a thousand times, sure, why not? But don't let Nine stay longer than a season, oh no!"

Ace watched in fascination and ate popcorn that she had taken from Ten's pockets.

"OOOOWWW!" Seven screamed again, and ran from the swarm of bees that decided they didn't like him.

Ace stared after him, but didn't leave Sylar's side. "That's odd."

"Yes, it is." He replied.

"You think I should go help him?"

He paused. "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to get stung." He said with a smile.

"Aw, you're sweet." She said, kissing him as Seven raced around, swatting ineffectually at the bees with his umbrella.

_WHAM. _He got hit by a meteor.


	4. Chihuahua of Death

**A/N: Thanks to allonsy-doctor for the review that gave me an idea for this chapter. :) **

Ten noticed Seven's situation and let out a sigh of relief, hoping that the author would find it better to squish Seven then it had been with him.

_WHAM. _Ten jumped, but the meteor didn't hit him.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Rose shouted, trying to pull the meteor off Nine.

Ten pointed a finger and laughed childishly, doing a little dance. "Notmenotmenotme!" He said gleefully.

"Interesting." Five said. "Apparently, this story got a review from a certain allonsy-doctor, who wanted to see more 'Nine-whomping.' It seems the author took this to heart."

Nine groaned. "Wonderful…"

Ten pointed his finger and laughed some more.

"And, seeing as Nine was _supposed _to be the translator of the author's rationalizations, it seems that job has fallen to me." Five continued.

No one seemed to be listening, so the sun exploded and they all BURNED. Then, it reset itself in the sky, and everyone came back to life, with vivid memories of what had happened. This time, they paid close attention while Five repeated what he'd said.

"Who the heck is this psycho-author, anyway?" Sylar asked. He was promptly crushed by a meteor.

"Doesn't like to be called 'psycho.'" Sylar noted as he threw the meteor off. "Understood."

The meteor leapt back into the sky and fell on Nine, who let out an embarrassing sound that was almost like a 'yeep!'

"WHAT IS WITH THE METEORS?" Donna demanded in a shout.

A great, giant wad of cotton candy fell on top of her. She coughed.

"Better than meteors." Amy said smugly, then hurriedly kissed Eleven while his guard was down. He shoved her off impatiently.

"So what now?" Sylar asked, since no one seemed to be doing anything besides being crushed by meteors. Or hit by cars, as the case seemed to be, since as he spoke one swerved off the road and whacked Three, throwing him back a good distance before he landed.

"Um…" Ten pulled a list out of his pocket.

"TheChihuahuaofDeathortheWal-MartofDoom?" He inquired.

Sylar rubbed his eyes, staring. Everyone turned to him to translate.

"I have no idea." He said sadly.

"The Chihuahua of Death or the Wal-Mart of Doom?" Ace said for him.

Everyone looked around at each other.

"What's the Chihuahua of Death?" Rose asked tentatively.

"What's the Wal-Mart of Doom?" Two added.

"What is 'Wal-Mart'?" One asked, bewildered.

Four rolled his eyes. "You know Wal-Mart. Took over the Krackton Galaxy in Nebula 4, remember?"

One's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes. The fabled store of a thousand centuries. Competition kept springing up, and it kept holding strong." He shook his head sadly. "Took over three moons of the Elon Quadrant, if I'm not mistaken."

"Wal-Mart?" Sylar asked incredulously. "It's just a _store!_"

Around him, the whole world stopped. People gasped. Others stared. One girl ran off screaming into the distance. A cricket chirped. Silence was absolute, other than the girl, the cricket, and another car that chose Three as a target.

And then people started to panic.

"IT'S COMING!" One screamed.

"IT'LL COME! JUST YOU WATCH!"

"NO! FLEE!"

"IT'S TOO LATE! FAR TOO LATE!"

"WE ARE DOOMED!"

A batty old lady crackled right next to Sylar's ear. "Oh, you shouldn't have said that, no, shouldn't have said that!" She laughed again then ran off, surprisingly fast for a woman with a cane.

All the Doctors turned on Sylar, who was still staring at the now-empty streets. They simultaneously took a long step backwards, then whistled innocently.

The companions were less subtle. They ran screaming.

"Wait!" Sylar called. "What are you afraid of?"

Jo turned back, shrugged, and replied, "I don't know. Everyone else was."

And she ran off again.

Peter took a step back with the Doctors, who were making steady progress away from him. Ace stayed by his side, glowering at Seven, who was _still _crushed by a meteor, but looked as though he wanted to join the others. Nine somehow managed to get out from under _his _meteor, but was crushed again as another fell on his head.

Rose turned back long enough to see this and cried, "Oh, COME ON!"

Five cleared his throat pointedly. "There _was _a review…" he explained.

And then the Chihuahua appeared.

It was very small, much smaller than normal Chihuahuas. Its eyes were black and beady, and its teeth were gleaming white and razor-sharp. It growled, the noise crackling through the air like thunder.

Sylar laughed. "Wow." He compared the size of his fist to the small dog. It was smaller than that.

He took a step towards it. "Who's a cute little doggie of doom? Who's a cute little doggie?" He asked in a baby voice, tickling the thing under its chin.

It growled and bit his nose.

Sylar let out a blood-curdling scream, crying, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Gerroff, gerr if off!"

He wrenched the Chihuahua off his nose, throwing it backwards. He glared at it.

"You'll pay for that one." He spat, blood pouring down his face from the cuts on his nose.

The little dog came in for another attack, but this time Sylar was ready. He gripped it by the sides, stopping it in mid-air. Its teeth snapped at his nose again, but Sylar just smirked at it.

"MY TURN!" He growled at the dog. He dropped it, but before it reached the ground, his foot came up to intercept it. The Chihuahua let out a startled "Blark!" As the kick threw it back into the distance.

No one ever saw the Chihuahua of Death ever again. Some say that it is now living in Asia, calling itself the Cat of Pain. Others say that it never existed in the first place.

"BAD DOG!" Sylar called after it.

Peter was rolling on the ground laughing, pointing childishly at Sylar's nose, which was still bleeding. Sylar shot a glare at him, then at the Eclipse blocking his ability to heal.

Ace hugged him gently. "Well, at least that's one thing done with. I guess we go to the Wal-Mart of Doom now."

"It's _still _just a store." Sylar growled.

The people screamed again and ran out of the streets once more, which made no sense to Sylar, since they had already run inside once and shouldn't be out again.

And then a creature appeared. It was golden, with a strange shape. Its head was domed, and the bottom half of it was covered in golden baubles. It had one eye on a long eyestalk, and two attachments; some kind of weapon and a plunger.

All the Doctors screamed and hid behind whatever they could find; including other Doctors.

"I am a Dalek!" The creature screeched. "And you have defeated our Chihuahua!"

Ten screamed even louder, then grew abruptly serious for an angst-y moment, all traces of the sugar vanishing as he said, "They survived. They _always _survive while _I_ lose _everything._"

Then he ducked behind a rock, trembling.

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Dalek, Shmarlek. What do you want?"

"You must enter the Wal-Mart of Doom!"

Lightning flashed in the sky! Thunder crackled, wind howled! A tornado blew in, picked up a house and took it away, while little Toto fell out of the house and almost went _splat! _On the concrete. Fortunately, he was saved by Nine, who collapsed under his unexpected weight and cringed while the little dog licked his face.

"The Wal-Mart of Doom. Uh-_huh._" Sylar snorted.

The Dalek said no more, and Sylar smiled smugly at it.

And suddenly, he was somewhere else.

"YOU MUST GO THROUGH THE WAL-MART OF DOOM!" The Dalek screeched ever louder. This time, its voice echoed all around him.

Sylar looked around. "I'm in a store." He observed, startled.

"THE WAL-MART OF…"

"SHUT UP!" Sylar grabbed the nearest object he could find and threw it in a random direction.

"ACK! MAYDAY MAYDAY!" The Dalek spun out of control and crashed to the ground, exploding into a million pieces.

Sylar looked around. "Ace?" He called. "ACE!"

But she wasn't there.

Sylar glowered at the ceiling. "Where is Ace, you freak of nature? _Where is she_?"

Another Dalek voice answered him. "You will not return to her until you escape the Wal-Mart of…"

"If you say Doom I'll rip your eyestalk off!"

The Dalek shut up.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. And I don't own Wal-Mart.**


	5. Wal Mart of Doom

**A/N: Again, thanks to allonsy-doctor. :) **

Sylar walked purposefully, though he really had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. He hadn't seen or heard from the Daleks since he'd destroyed that first one.

In addition, his abilities seemed to have returned. He could see through the window that the eclipse had yet to die out, so he was forced to conclude that it was something in here that returned them.

He leapt casually up onto one of the shelves, looking around. He saw metal men working at the cash register, puzzled over them for a minute, then looked around again.

An evil grin burst onto his face and he began to run across the top of each shelf, before doing a cannonball off of one, landing expertly on the floor.

He wandered around for a while, saying and doing nothing. Nothing moved. Nothing spoke.

"So… er… what am I supposed to do?" He asked at last.

"Escape the Wal-Mart of Doom!" A Dalek voice screeched instantly.

Sylar cringed, knowing deep inside that those words were about to get _really _old, _really _fast.

"How?" He snapped.

"Defeat the Minions of the Wal-Mart of…"

_**"DOOM!"**_

__Sylar jumped at the unexpected voice. He whirled around and looked up as something else came down from the ceiling.

It was a man. A _purple _man. Far taller than Sylar, and much thinner. He had bright blue eyes, and was covered in white paint. His clothes were white, and he had spines traveling down his back. His hair stuck out strangely from his purple scalp, black in color.

"Yes, Sylar." He said nastily. "_This _is the Wal-Mart of Doom_. My _Wal-Mart. _Your _Doom."

Sylar, who was feeling much more confident now that his abilities had returned, just smirked. "Oh, really? So you know how to kill _me?_"

He used his telekinesis to rip open a small cut on his skin, which healed in an instant.

The purple man laughed, a particularly nauseating laugh that made Sylar's blood turn to ice. "Oh, Sylar." He said, much in the way one would speak to a child. "I have no intention of _killing _you. Oh, no. The Wal-Mart of Doom is far, _far _worse than death."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "I've faced your stupid Chihuahua. If you call _that _terrifying, then this should be cake."

The purple man rolled his sky blue eyes. "That was _their _idea, not mine." He snapped, gesturing to the army of Daleks descending from the ceiling behind him. They looked down, looked at their neighbor, looked anywhere but at Sylar and the purple man. Sylar even thought he saw one point its plunger at another, as though trying to shove the blame on it. The second Dalek looked indignant, and looked at the purple man in a way that reminded Sylar of a kid pleading to its parents that he or she was innocent.

"But that matters not." The purple man continued.

Sylar burst into laughter. "Matters not? Are you kidding me?" He fell to the ground, rolling around and shaking with laughter. "You've got to be one _huge _nerd to say 'matters not', believe me." He grinned, then put on his best baby voice to continue with, "Aww… did pwoor pwurpwle gwuy gwet his wunch monewy taken as a wikkle biddy kid?" He burst into fresh laughter.

"CEASE YOUR PRATTLE!"

This only made Sylar laugh all the harder. "Oh, _nerd city! _When were you born, the _medieval ages?_" Tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks. "'Cease your prattle!'" He chocked, coughing and laughing at the same time. "What next?" He wheezed, still shaking with silent laughter. "'Your manner displeases me?'"

The purple man sniffed. "Perhaps."

Sylar rolled on the ground again. This time, he was laughing too hard to mock the strange purple man, who waited impatiently until the serial killer managed to pull himself off the ground.

Sylar wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "That was too great." He grinned.

"All right." Said the purple man bitterly. "You've had your fun. Time to pay."

Lightning flashed and thunder crackled on the word 'pay.' The sky turned dark and red lights flared.

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Been there, done that, bought the T-Shirt." He yawned. "Anything else?"

The purple man smiled menacingly. "Oh, there are many things. And many more things you will need to know to survive the Wal-Mart of Doom." He smirked. "Some I will tell you. Some I will not.

"First, I am known as Polse." Sylar hid a snicker, but Polse continued, "And I, like you, did not wish to be 'normal'. I wanted to be special.

"And so special I became. But when the eclipse came back, I lost my abilities. I could not allow this.

"So I created the Wal-Mart of Doom, where I could always keep my abilities. This is why you still have yours, despite the eclipse outside.

"Second, do not anger the cashiers. They have a nasty habit of electrocuting people.

"Third, and finally, I understand your awareness of the author is only current." He grinned viciously. "So do not count on the author's help.

"You see, Sylar, that is what makes my Wal-Mart so very dangerous. The author is on _my _side. And so, if I wanted to crush you with a meteor, it would be done. Things change in this place; nothing is ever the same.

"Why? Because this is the most random place in the writer's mind. It is the result of boredom, of late-night exhaustion, and of the worst sort of writer's block.

"And it is all here. In this Wal-Mart. You have been warned."

And then Polse vanished, the army of Daleks disappearing behind him.

Sylar began to panic. He knew nothing of this writer, only that many people were crushed by meteors because of what was written.

But nothing else.

Oh, and that he should never use the psycho-word when the author was around, because… yikes.

He started running again, thinking that he should probably do the opposite of any advice Polse had given him. Seeing as the only actual advice he gave was to not get the cashiers mad, Sylar decided to do just that.

He walked up to the check out line, observing them closely. He grinned; there was one way to make the cashiers mad back in the real world…

He grabbed a shopping cart and threw in at least twenty items, then walked up to the 'Twelve Items Only!' line.

The man working at the cash register-a metal robot- scanned them, then turned to him saying, "You have an incorrect amount of items."

Its voice was low and flat, a monotone perfectly fit for a robot.

"Too bad." Sylar said. "It's just a few more. Deal with it."

"You are incompatible." The metal man went on. "You will be deleted."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Puh-lease." He tossed a careless blast of radioactivity towards the metal man, incinerating it in seconds.

The other cashiers turned to face him.

"You are different." One said. Its voice was an equal monotone to the one that Sylar had just destroyed.

"Really?" Sylar clapped his hands to his face in mock surprise. "I had no idea!"

"You can not be different." The metal man continued as though Sylar hadn't spoken. "You will become like us."

"Oh?" Sylar mocked him. "And how are you gonna do that, robo-nerd? Gonna make an android duplicate and kill off the real me?"

For some reason, the metal creature explained. "Your mind will be placed in a suit of armor. You will have no race, no gender. You will become identical. You will become like us!"

"RACIST ROBOT!" Someone randomly screamed, then disappeared, as no one was meant to be in the Wal-Mart of Doom but Polse and Sylar, who was rather inclined to agree with the strange random person.

"Wait wait wait." Sylar held up his hands to stop the metal men. "My _mind?_ You mean my _brain?_" His eyes widened. "That's _my _technique, you jerks! You stole it from me!"

But they weren't listening. They all came towards him, crying, "UPGRADE. UPGRADE."

"UPGRADE THIS!" Sylar snarled, furious. Radioactive light incinerated them all.

"The nerve!" He fumed. He stormed off to a different area of the Wal-Mart of Doom, noticing some nice looking watches and snatching one.

As he looked, he found his eye catching on the jewelry section, particularly on a necklace that he could just perfectly see on Ace…

He snatched that, too, looking at it for a long time. At first glance, it was just a necklace, probably made of amber. But on a second look, he saw that it was created by thousands upon thousands of tiny explosions deep inside the beautiful, tear-drop shaped bead.

He grinned and pocketed it, making a silent promise to escape and find Ace again.

And then everything went insane.

Many different things happened. First, every machine around him suddenly changed and became little mini-monsters of destruction. He rolled his eyes; no need to ask where that one came from.

"Stupid Transformers." He growled, noticing the red-eyed, robot, changing look to the machines. They all snapped claws and growled.

"Blame allonsy-doctor." One of the objects hissed. It had formerly been a toaster, but now it was a tiny metal death cannon, shooting out pieces of extremely burnt bread.

"Allonsy-doctor?" Sylar paused. He'd heard that name before. Something about recommending more 'nine-whomping.'

He didn't get any further with his thoughts, because the floor melted below him. He shrieked like a little girl and jumped onto the glass display case.

A metal monster that was formerly a coffee pot shot a thick brown liquid at his face.

"UGH!" Sylar snapped. "Cold coffee? _Come on!_"

He jumped onto another shelf as he observed the ground. It had quickly turned into molten rock, and he silently let out a stream of the worst words he knew as he looked at it. It was like a nightmare.

"_**YES, SYLAR." **_Came a booming voice around him. _**"It is a nightmare. And it's all yours."**_

__"POLSE!" Sylar snarled. "When I get my hands on you…"

Polse laughed, and the voice died down.

Sylar quickly tried to incinerate the appliances, but more kept coming. Fortunately, now that the larger ones were out of the way, it was left to the smaller ones, such as pencil sharpeners. They whirred and buzzed threateningly, but Sylar just regarded them coldly.

He leapt onto the next shelf, and an old memory sparked in his mind:

_"Come on, Gabriel! It's a fun game!"_

_ "How do you play?"_

_ "The ground is lava. You have to stay off it. You can use anything to stay off; the playground, the swings, just don't touch it, or you're out. Oh, and watch out for Steve; he's the lava monster."_

Sylar looked at the ground. "No way." He breathed.

Sure enough, after a moment, a great glob of lava slowly formed into the shape of a man. It roared threateningly.

"I think I am leaving." Sylar said. "Nice knowing you!" he vaulted across the shelves, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

Then he froze. A malicious grin spread across his face as he remembered something else.

He could _fly._

He took off, launching himself at the goopy monster, mist curling off his hands. As soon as they touched, ice spread across the creature, and it shattered with one touch.

"Cake."

Polse appeared in front of him. It was obvious he was unnerved. "How? You can not possibly be this powerful!"

Sylar grinned. "Let me tell you something, Polse. I _can _be this powerful." He gestured around him. "Everything you've seen here, every ability I've used, they all came from someone else." He smiled darkly, every one of his teeth showing. "And you're next."

Polse's purple skin lightened considerably as the blood rushed away from his face. "No." He whispered. "No, you wouldn't!"

Sylar advanced towards him.

"NO!" Polse shrieked. "This can't… I'll let you go! Just leave me!"

But Sylar wouldn't be stopped.

Polse called upon his last weapon. He disappeared, then reappeared high above Sylar's head.

"This is the writer's world, Sylar!" He cried. "And the randomness of it all will destroy you!"

"This isn't _random!" _Sylar yelled. "I _know _the writer's style; things get crushed by meteors, no one can say the p-word, and random cars hit people! Nothing makes _sense!_ Crazy as this is, there is a certain _sense _to it!

"No, Polse! You aren't using the writer to help you! You're trying to control the story, which you know can't happen! This is the writer's story, not yours! So tell me," His eyes grew dark and his expression loathing. "How are you doing it?"

Polse was slowly losing his purple color, so that now he was almost lavender in shade. He looked at Sylar, then at the destruction around him.

"You don't know what it's capable of." He breathed. His hand disappeared into his pocket, then returned with a set of keys.

He tossed the keys towards Sylar, who caught them expertly.

"I had to lock it away." Polse continued. "It was dangerous. This story, this entire world… it can only get worse once it's out." His sky blue eyes pleaded with Sylar. "Please. Don't release it. You don't know what it can do."

Sylar held up the keys. "Which one?" He demanded.

Polse looked downright sick. "The silver one."

Sylar raised a thick eyebrow. "And why are you telling me this?"

"Because the writer wants me to." Polse replied, as though it was obvious.

"But you said… the writer is locked up!"

Polse shook his head. "Oh no. It's not the writer." His eyes locked on Sylar's. "It's much, _much _worse."

He gestured to a closet. "It's your problem now."

And he disappeared.

Sylar looked from the key to the closet and back again. Polse had seemed genuinely terrified. But the writer had forced him to tell Sylar everything, so it couldn't be _too _bad.

He reviewed his choices for a while. If he released whatever was in that closet, then the plot would go on, which seemed to be what this writer cared about. If he stayed here, he could be stuck for a long time.

Finally, he sighed, his curiosity getting the better of him. He slowly walked towards the closet.

He inserted the silver key into the lock and turned it. His hand clamped on the doorknob, then slowly twisted. His heart was hammering, and his chest felt tight.

He opened the door.

Inside, all was dark. There seemed to be… nothing.

He looked inside. Nothing there.

And then, marveling at his own stupidity, he blushed and turned to the closet next to the one he had opened.

"Heh." He said to no one in particular. "Wrong room."

He tried it again, this time a little faster and more confident.

Again, nothing.

He fumed, wondering how often this was going to happen. He was still throwing his little hissy fit when a bright light shone out of the room and threw him backwards, into a bag of Cheetos, which promptly left a trail of orange on his face as they scampered away, snickering.

He stared in shock at the door, where a light flowed out. It stepped into the world and instantly turned to darkness, a formless shadow.

Sylar stared. "Wh-Who are you?" He stammered. He scowled; it wasn't his nature to stammer.

The creature looked at him. The eyes had remained light, two beautiful suns that shone out at him from across distant galaxies.

It said nothing at first. It just looked at him.

Finally, it spoke. Its voice floated like a breeze, soft and light, airy and ethereal. "You are Sylar. A serial killer. You recently fell in love."

He chocked. "How do you know that?" He breathed.

The creature observed its surroundings calmly. "I see I am still in the Wal-Mart of Doom." Its voice was disproving.

"Y-Yes."

"Ah, well."

All was quiet for a moment, so Sylar tried again. "Who… Who _are _you?"

It turned to him, its eyes burning brightly.

"I am a part of the writer."

"So you're psycho too?" He blurted out before he could stop himself. The floor turned to lava again, burning his feet as he hopped from one foot to another.

The creature didn't seem to notice his discomfort, but it waited for him to freeze the lava before continuing, "I am the most mysterious and strange part. The hardest area to understand. I have been called good and I have been called evil. But I do not care."

"But… but what _are _you?"

The creature's eyes locked perfectly on his.

"I am The Random."

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I **_**still **_**don't own Wal-Mart. Or Cheetos. Or Transformers. **


	6. The Author Apologizes

**A/N: Again, so sorry for the late updates. I've had serious writer's block on a lot of my stories (meaning all of them that I've published). Oh, and guess what? I _still _don't own Wal-Mart! In fact, I don't own anything! **

**Also, thanks to Allonsy-Doctor (Where would I be without you?) for the suggestion which is still being used, though not with the Random. Confused? Me too. Read on, and it will make sense! I think! I don't know! Read! Please. Thank you. **

Every single Doctor gawked at the strange creature that had teleported Sylar out of the Wal-Mart of Doom.

"Incredible." Eight breathed. "The Random."

The Random looked around at them, seemingly used to this kind of treatment.

Ace still had her arms around Sylar, as he had lifted her into a hug the moment he'd escaped. The necklace that Sylar had stolen was on her neck, and the watch on his wrist. "But what is The Random?"

Eleven's eyes were huge. "The Random is the result of every random thought a writer has ever had. It is surrounded by Randomadiation, the most powerful sort of radiation known in six of the dark galaxies. Every random thing that ever happened in this story is the result of this." He gestured to The Random. "Those people who randomly shout things. The cars that hit Three. The meteors, to some extent. This is it!"

Sylar, who'd had quite enough randomness for one lifetime and wanted to see it all gone, wasn't all that thrilled to learn this. "So, what do we do with it?"

"It?" The Random asked indignantly. "I am no 'it'. I am a lee."

"Lee?" Sylar asked, baffled.

"Not a he, not a she, but a lee." The Random replied. "Not a him not a her, but a ler. And not a his not a hers, but a lers."

"A lee." Sylar said, dumbfounded.

The Random nodded ler head curtly.

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Ok. Lee. But the point still stands! What are we going to do with … ler?"

"We keep ler with us." Eleven replied, as though it was obvious.

"But… it's the source of all this randomness!"

"Randomocity." Eight corrected.

"Whatever! It's giving off that radiation…"

"Randomadiation." Eight corrected again.

Sylar shot him an evil death glare before continuing, "We can't keep it around!"

"Ler!" Eight corrected cheerfully. Sylar wrapped his hands around the Time Lord's neck.

When he was finally pried off of Eight, he went on, "We can't keep _**ler **_around! We have to get rid of ler!"

"What?" The Random looked taken aback. "Get rid of me? How?"

Sylar looked around. Seeing as no one had an answer, he tossed an electric bolt from hand to hand.

"Oh, I can think of a few ways." He said darkly.

"NO!" Eleven nobly leapt in front of The Random. "You can't do that, Sylar! The Random is a part of the author! If you kill ler, the entire story could collapse! Everything would change, and things would go horribly, horribly wrong! There would be nothing!"

"I can't see how getting a little bit of randomness…"

"Randomocity!" Eight said again.

"SHUT UP! I can't see how getting a little bit of randomocity out of this story would be a _bad _thing."

"That randomocity is what got you and Ace together." The Random said primly.

Sylar took a step back.

"Do you really think, in a world without me, that you and Ace would ever have found that you love each other? Face it, Sylar; your relationship would be a joke in any other story! But because I'm here, you fell in love with Ace. Case closed."

Sylar gaped, then slowly turned to Ace. She looked pale at the very thought.

"Fine." Sylar said grudgingly. "It stays."

"_Lee _stays." Eight corrected. He was promptly forced to duck Sylar's fist.

"_Anyway…_" Five went on. "What do we do now?"

"LIST!" Ten shouted, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. He did a little happy dance.

"Where is he _getting _these things?" Sarah Jane asked. Everyone shook their heads, none of them knowing.

Ten looked at the list, reading it off, then said promptly, "Sugarcrash."

At that exact moment, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Sylar raised a thick eyebrow. "Well, it was bound to happen eventually."

"How are we going to carry that?" Peter asked.

"We don't. We wait for him to sleep it off." Three said firmly. "We split up. Half of us stay here and watch him; the other half carries on with the story, because it would be really boring staying here and watching Ten sleep."

Everyone paused, then simultaneously shouted, "I'M GOING!"

Five sighed heavily. "There is a better way to solve this…"

"Oh?" Sylar sneered. "How?"

Five rolled his eyes. "We ask the writer, of course."

Sylar's eyes popped. "We can do that?"

"Sylar, we have a part of the author here with us." he indicated The Random. "Remember?"

"Ah." Sylar blushed. "Whatever."

The Random paused, looking at each of them in turn.

"You must stay." She indicated Five. "We have two translators of the author's actions; you and me. And seeing as I am going, you must stay."

Lee nodded primly, then turned to Sylar, looking him up and down. "You're coming." The Random said. Without even looking at Ace, lee indicated her and said, "You to."

Each of them separated themselves into separate groups as The Random continued to list them off. After everyone had been separated, Sylar took a quick look around. Jo, Sarah Jane, Teegan, Eleven, One, Two, Amy, Five, Ten (obviously) and Eight were staying.

Along with Sylar, The Random, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Ace, Nine, Peter and Rose were leaving. Where, Sylar didn't know. But he was happy enough, as he wouldn't be separated from Ace anymore.

The Random led the way, turning from the others without so much as a backward glance.

"So… eh… Random?" Four asked.

Lee didn't even face him. "Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know." The Random said, as though the question was merely an irritation. "And I don't need to know."

Suddenly, lee froze. "No. No, no no no no NO! I'm _not _doing this, I'm _not!"_

"Random?" Rose came up to her. "Random, what's wrong?"

The Random pointed across the street. "It's… it's… it's _nim._"

"Nimh?" Four asked. "Like that old children's story? _Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh?_"

Sylar looked at him strangely. "_What?_"

Four's eyes grew wide. "You've never heard of it? Oh, you have _not lived!_"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Think I have, thanks."

"Oh, it's a great read."

"It's a kid's book!" Ace protested.

Sylar whirled on her. "You've read it too?"

She shrugged, and Four continued. "But you must have read it! Or seen the movie, at least! Which, I believe, was a total mockery of the book, because seriously, that was _not _what the story was about! The characters were changed so completely…"

"I repeat." Sylar said. "_**What?**_"

"NOT _Nimh, _you dunderheads!" The Random snapped for seemingly the first time. "_NIM!"_

Lee pointed a single dark finger at a figure in the distance. Like The Random, it was formless, just a large patch of light with two black holes for eyes.

"I refuse to work with nim!" The Random snapped at the sky.

"Oh!" Seven exclaimed. "Oh, I see…"

The Random looked pleadingly towards him.

"Nim. Like lee. Very similar." Seven nodded wisely. "Not he or she, but nee, not his or hers, but nis, and not him or her, but nim!"

Sylar bottled up a blood-curdling scream at these new nonsense words. He shot a death glare at The Random.

"Do you think this is _my _fault?" Lee shrieked. "Oh, yes, blame the randomness of it all! Well, let me tell you something, Sylar!" Lee hiccupped, swallowing ler hysteria as best as lee could before continuing, "There can't be too much Randomocity without Reasonability!"

"It's The Reason?" Four's eyes popped. "Nee is the author's _Reason?_"

The Random nodded bitterly, then walked towards the Reason.

"Hello, Random." Nee said coolly.

"Reason." Random said, ler voice harder than diamonds and colder than ice.

"I'm afraid I can not stay long." The Reason said, sniffing haughtily. "I can barely stand your…" nee sniffed again. "Rather _tasteless _world. This place is vile, to say the least."

"No better than your worlds." The Random all but snarled at nim.

The Reason barked out an arrogant laugh. "Oh, Random, you can not possibly hope to compete with the worlds of _my _design. They are colorful, classy." Nee surveyed the area with as much contempt as could be conveyed on a faceless form. "Yours leave something to be desired."

"You're an old-fashioned, way-too-realistic nerd." The Random replied darkly. "_My _worlds make people laugh."

"And tear out their hair in annoyance." The Reason indicated Sylar, whose lip curled into a sneer.

"Believe it or not, Random, I did not come here to insult you." The Reason sniffed daintily. "I came to warn you. You have been released from your prison on the author's wishes. The story was influenced by the Randomadiation, yes, but…"

"Fascinating!" Four interjected. "We are actually seeing the author arguing with itself! I've heard of things like this, but never actually _seen _it!"

"I can't believe you think the book's better than the movie," Seven whined

"But nothing!" The Random spat, ignoring them both, her eyes locked on the Reason. "As if your _Reasonadiation _is any better! You're contaminating my airspace! Get out! This is _my _world, _my _story!"

Sylar, never one to defend randomocity, found himself hating The Reason. He took a dangerous step towards nim.

"Look." He said, his voice low, soft as velvet and vicious as poison. "This _is _The Random's field. So I left ler alone." Lasers sizzled on his hands. "You, on the other hand, I don't have to be merciful to."

The Reason scoffed. "As though your petty abilities could _touch _me. You are a result of The Random's thoughts, and therefore a part of the author's imagination. _I, _on the other hand, am an actual part of the _author. _Which gives me control over you. All of you."

"But you're controlled by reason." Sylar grinned wickedly. "And I'm controlled by randomocity. And you can't make sense of randomocity. Ergo…"

He fired a laser towards The Reason, who dodged it, but it simply came back for nim, catching nim in the arm.

Nee gave out a horrible cry of pain, clutching his arm. "H-How?"

"Randomadiation." The Random said smugly. "Get out of here, Reason. We don't need you."

"You need what I have to say!" The Reason snarled. "There is a world ahead of you, Random, a world that can not be stopped. It isn't one of Randomocity or Reasonability. It's a world neither of us can stand."

The Random stared. "You don't mean…?"

The Reason nodded. "Yes, Random. It is a world made of ice and cold. A world none of us can touch."

The Random swallowed, and The Reason disappeared.

"What world?" Sylar asked immediately.

The Random looked at them all. Ler bright sun-like eyes were wide in shock and fear.

"Random?" Ace asked, concerned. "What world?"

The Random took a deep, shuddering breath and replied.

"The Reason was talking about a world where only those we imagine can go. We have tried to enter the world before, to talk to the part of the author that's inside, but we never have. We're blocked.

"But the ideas we have, or those who have been influenced by our thoughts, are allowed inside. The only problem is, they never come back.

"We call it the Dark World. It is the only place the author creates that the parts of the author are not allowed inside."

"So we go in, we check it out, we come back." Sylar suggested. "Simple."

The Random shook ler head. "I can't let you go inside, Sylar. You won't return."

The others exchanged uncomfortable looks. Sylar huffed a sigh.

"I've been in the Wal-Mart of Doom. If that's the best the author can come up with, then this 'Dark World' should be a cakewalk." He rolled his eyes. "I'll go. And, if I have to, I'll go alone."

"No!" Ace protested immediately. "No way." She shook her head furiously. "If you're going, I'm going with you. End of story."

He smiled at her, unable to keep himself from feeling proud, then turned to the Random. "Well?" He demanded.

Lee sighed deeply, shaking ler head almost sadly. "I won't lie to you. I don't like it. But you've made up your mind."

The Random turned away from them, raising a hand and using it to split the air in front of ler in two. Immediately, a cold, rushing wind enveloped them all.

"Well," said Seven. "I'm not going in there!"

Ace punched his arm. "Don't be such a baby, professor. This'll be great!"

A wolf howled somewhere inside, joined in its lonely chorus by some strange, unearthly sound; a high-pitched wailing that sent chills through Sylar.

The rip that the Random had made opened even wider, revealing… nothing. Nothing but darkness.

"Three guesses why they call it the 'Dark World,'" Sylar muttered, then took a step forwards. Ace's arm clutched his even tighter, and the two went through together, leaving the others behind.

The rip in the universes closed behind them, and they were plunged into blackness.

"WELCOME, LADY AND GENTLEMAN, TO…"

Light flooded their vision; they looked around at the same time and saw they were standing in a large, grey prison cell. Only they weren't standing; they weren't even near each other. Instead, they were both tied to chairs at opposite ends of the room, staring at each other in horror.

"_MY WORLD!_"

A large, towering creature flew from the ceiling and into the middle of the room. It was at least ten feet tall, covered in blue-green scales, with a wicked, lizard-y smile on its gruesome, scarred face. In one hand was a cruel spear, in the other, a rubber ducky. Its clothes were a crazy hodgepodge of battle armor and multicolored patterns, with a neon pink jacket and a black metal breastplate.

"What the crap are you?" Sylar asked, dumbfounded and a little weirded out by the thing.

"What the crap are you?" It mimicked him; its voice was a perfect, flawless interpretation of Sylar's. It laughed uproariously at its own mockery, a weird, distasteful laugh that sounded something like: "YUK YUK YUK YUK!"

Ace snickered. "Wow. That's really your evil laugh?"

"Wow," it mimicked. "That's really your evil laugh?"

Sylar's eyes narrowed. "I'm a dumbass with only my rubber ducky as a friend," he muttered, hoping it would pick up the phrase.

"Honey, you _wish _you had a friend as cool as this duck," it said instead, squeaking the duck in his face, and then promptly making the same noise itself. _SQUEEEAAKKK. _

"Waitaminute, how did I get tied to a chair?" Ace asked, as though noticing it for the first time. She reached over to her wrist and began to gnaw at the chains, then smiled sheepishly when she realized how pointless that was. Sylar shot her a look, raising an eyebrow, and she shrugged helplessly, mouthing 'what can you do'?

"Oh, that's charming," the creature said smarmily. "Having a silent conversation so I won't mimic you. Well, fine! I can take a hint! You two don't like me? Well I don't like you!"

"Big whoop," Sylar rolled his eyes. "Really, of all the crazy shit I've seen today, you rank about a 'three' on the threatening scale."

It sneered at him. "You rank about a 'three' on the threatening scale. YUK YUK YUK YUK! You ain't seen _nuthin' _yet, Gabe my boy, _nuthin!_ ROLL FILM!"

It gestured with its spear to one side of the prison cell, which immediately dissolved into a white sheet. A movie began to play on it, projected there by one of those old movie projectors your grandfather might keep in his attic. Sylar shot Ace a 'get-a-load-of-this' look and rolled his eyes. She snickered, nodded, and turned to the movie.

The title credits came on "_The Princess and the Wizard."_ Cheerful, lilting music played in the background; it quickly morphed into something that a five-year-old would find sinister, but Sylar found rather cute.

It was immediately apparent who the villain of this feature would be; a dark character in a hood came onto the screen, speaking with a rasping, grating voice: "Tonight, tonight, it happens tonight! Those fools don't know, at their fancy ball, that I've snuck a _potion _into their punch bowl, MWA HA HA HA HA!"

Sylar yawned as the creature behind them (nicknamed in Sylar's head as 'the Corny') started to cry out, "BOO! BOO, evil wizard, _BOOO!"_

He then began mimicking an entire crowd of six-year-olds, shouting random phrases in different voices. "Shut up, Collin, this is the best part!" "I wanna go home!" "Where's my mommy!" "I gotta go potty!"

Sylar rolled his eyes again as the rubber ducky went flying at the screen; Ace's eyes popped.

"ACK! Get back, that duck's gonna blow!" She threw her chair to the side as it exploded into a million pieces. Sylar's eyes widened as she tried-unsuccessfully- to pull herself upright again.

"How'd you know?" He asked, looking at the screen which had, impossibly, survived.

"Trust me, mamma knows her explosives." Ace growled, trying again to get off the floor. The Corny snickered at her, pointing and laughing like a five-year-old. "You could help me up. I mean, this is cruel and unusual punishment."

"SHUT UP, COLLIN!" it screamed. "THIS IS THE _GOOD _PART!"

Ace snorted and continued to try and get up while Sylar shot her a sympathetic look and kept watching.

What followed next was a grueling three hours of candy fluff and minor mayhem, in which the 'evil wizard' –who, to add insult to injury, had Sylar's face when his hood was down- gave everyone a potion to make them dance very badly at the ball. They couldn't stop dancing, so to save her kingdom, the princess went out and stop the evil wizard. This princess-with Ace's face- was the only one unaffected by the potion, because she was in fact, allergic to punch (_see kids? Being different like that can be a good thing! Now let's all sing the happy, please-don't-let-us-die-while-we're-crossing-this-rickety-bridge-over-alligator-infested-waters song!)_. She stopped the magical wizard with the wonderful, powerful magic of sweetness and bubblegum, and he turned instantly good and danced with her and the rest of the kingdom. Sylar almost puked three times. Ace did puke, and then passed out on the floor, where the Corny had not helped her up out of the chair.

The Corny, after finally picking her up, gave them all a break from the movies and started to read 'George the Happy Rabbit', a wonderful tale about a young bunny who learned the importance of sharing and doing his homework. Sylar really wished that he could break out, but his abilities didn't seem to be working, and every time he tried to even talk during the movies/books, the Corny would shout him down for twenty minutes straight which, though it gave him a break from the horrible corniness, did absolutely nothing for his ear drums.

As the Corny finished "George the Happy Rabbit," "Casey the Angry Butterfly," and put on the "Happy Smile Fun Time" movie, Sylar decided that now would be a good time to bang his head into the wall. He did so promptly.

"Ears… bleeding… head… exploding… too much… sugar… and happy…candy fluff…"

Ace was stretching and straining at the chains, trying to grab the backpack that the Corny had left _juuuuusssstttt _out of her reach. "Must… get dynamite… so I can stick it… in ears!"

The Corny laughed and whooped. "This is so much fun! Oh, look, Prince Caring has just promised his love to Princess Terrible! What will happen to our wonderful romance?"

"Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now…" Sylar groaned, smacking his forehead into the wall again, for which he had purposely turned his chair to do.

The Corny stopped the movie, smiling wickedly. In a dark, menacing voice, it said, "If you insist."

It immediately tossed another rubber ducky towards Sylar, while Ace screamed, "DUCK IN THE HOLE!" And dodged to the side.

"ACK." Sylar said, pushing away from the duck, falling backwards and landing on the floor. "Oh, crap!"

The duck exploded, no longer in Sylar's lap. The Corny stood over him with a wicked smile and the spear in hand. It pressed the tip to Sylar's throat.

"No!" Ace screamed.

"He asked for it," The Corny answered her politely, then lifted the spear higher.

"Ohshit ohshit ohshit." Sylar squirmed about. He smiled up innocently. "Howzabout I _ask _if we can leave?"

"Howzabout I just kill you?"

"Ohshit!" Sylar dodged as the Corny's spear came down. "Changed my mind! Don't wanna die!"

"Then shut up and watch the movie!" The Corny shouted in the same childish voice that kept complaining about someone named 'Collin'. It pushed Sylar's chair upright, then sat back, grumbling under his breath.

Sylar glanced at Ace, who looked worriedly back. Was that it, then? Was the only escape… death?

Death or corny movies?

Which would you chose?

"Oh, crap, kill me now," Ace groaned.

The Corny grinned. "Excellent…" It said slowly, picking up its spear. Ace shot Sylar a look, mouthing, "_I love you," _so that the Corny couldn't make fun of the one thing they had left in the world; each other.

Sylar's eyes narrowed. "_I love you, too," _he mouthed back then, to the Corny, "Same here. We came here together, we die together."

The Corny grinned even wider. It pulled out a sword that had little bunny decorations on it. "Oh, very excellent. Say goodbye, lovebirds!"

Sylar's eyes locked on Ace's face; the last thing he would see in the world. Her eyes locked on his.

And then the door to the cell opened.

"Oh, Corny," said a slow, bored-sounding voice. "What in the universe are you doing _now?_"

Sylar was in the middle of thinking, _oh, crap, that __**was **__its name! _When the Corny whined, "Aw… Collin, you've always gotta spoil my fun!"

Ace and Sylar looked back to each other and, at exactly the same time, managed to say, "_Collin?_"

**A/N: First: See! I did use the idea! Just… not with the Random. I don't know why a lot of people (two) thought that lee would be a bad guy, but lee's not. So I gave that job to the Corny instead. Second: I don't own Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. Third: I want to say I'm sorry again; not just for this story, but for all of my others. I haven't updated in almost a year now, but I think I'm back! So… feel free to pelt me with virtual fruit. If any of my readers are still with me, then **_**thank you! **_**So much! **


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